Journey 5

On the 13th of January 1970, my husband (Derek) announced he was taking us to Australia. To say I was surprised is an understatement; I came from a close-knit family and was not prepared to leave them, but mum said, you go where your husband goes; I was shocked, to say the least. So after selling our lovely home and contents (the emigration people told us I would be able to buy as good if not better in Australia), on the 12th of January 1971, we left England.

We had never flown before, so it was an adventure. We stopped off at Dubai and were horrified guns everywhere and searched by large women, and our five-year-old was beside herself.  We landed in Perth on the 13th in the middle of the night, and we were met by the company which had sponsored us taken to what was to be our home for a while. That’s when things got really bad for me; you have to understand that I came from fitted carpets, velvet curtains, gplan furniture and plastered walls; what we walked into after being promised executive accommodation was no carpets, no curtains, only grey blinds, no plaster on the walls and old-fashioned furniture. I wanted to go home then and there, 

They had also promised there would be a job for Derek, but nothing; he had to go out and find a job himself. We found out they were not an employment agent but a real estate firm, all in all not a good start. 

But after twelve months we had a home in the hills and good friends, so all was good, especially after Mum and my sister and family joined us.

Journey 6

I was born in a small town in Essex, UK, being the youngest of three with two elder brothers. My father was in the Army, and my first trip out of Essex was to Wales when I was four. I don’t remember much about Wales. We then left Wales for Cyprus; it was the time of the Greek Cypriot War of Independence. We attended the Army school, which was set up in a house as there were not too many forces children when we first arrived. We lived in civilian housing, and our parents always encouraged us to play with the local Greek children. I have very fond memories of the three years we spent in Cyprus.

On our return to the UK, we lived in various places around the country before being posted to Libya. We were there for two years before returning to the UK when my father retired from the Army.

We moved back to Essex and lived there for eight years, which I guess was the first time we had been settled. In 1968 after the sudden death of my mother, my father decided we should move to Australia in 1969, although my father could not settle and returned to the UK.  

I started life in Australia in Sydney, then Melbourne and now in Perth. 

The move to Kalamunda from Rockingham has been the best thing to happen, and I’m so glad we live in this great country called Australia.

Journey 7

It was time to go, time to say goodbye to the home of my childhood, the familiar back verandah with its concrete surface and aged seagrass matting. I would come back to the farm, but it would never be home; I had been cut loose.

I was leaving home to go to uni in the city. It was in the same state, same country, but it didn’t feel like that to me. It wasn’t home; it was full of people, and noise and buildings and roads. I had no mind map to help put each bit in its place. It was the same sun and the same sky, but different – too light at night and but not enough stars.

It was all compressed, concentrated—row after row of houses, bitumen everywhere – not so many double gees, though. And I had my new bike, new as in second hand – could go places. Mum and dad lived in Morley when dad wasn’t back on the farm. I lived in college.

Now that was another experience. A home of others far from home, from overseas, from the south-west, the hills. Those that owned the place, back again for another year- and those startled rabbits like me.

I had been a biggish tadpole in a puddle; this was to be an oceanic experience. Previously Perth had been a holiday destination. Now it would be a place to live and work and love and set down roots.

Journey 8

With great excitement, we all met at the airport to start what turned out to be a fantastic family holiday. There were 8 of us - my daughter, Julie, her husband Kim, grandchildren Aidyn and Taleah, Norm and Norma (Kim’s parents) and Derek and myself.  

The flight took nearly 5 hours. We disembarked at Christmas Island for the plane to refuel and sat in the terminal until it was time to board the plane to Cocos. I was carrying my granddaughter, who was asleep, and they decided to check me for drugs. – Mind you, none of us had been out of the terminal.

On arrival at Cocos, we were once again checked, together with the receipts for the food which we had purchased to take as there wasn’t a lot on the island for visitors. We were then met by the owners of our Chalets – which were within walking distance. The chalets were right on the beachfront.

The sunset every night was just glorious as we dined on the verandah. We shared our meals together and celebrated Taleah’s third birthday whilst there. The Chalets were surrounded by Frangipani trees which were all in bloom, and the perfume was magic. 

We visited the museum on Home Island, which has interesting artefacts, some history of the island and costumes and clothing worn for different purposes. When visiting Home Island we were asked to cover our arms and legs as a mark of respect for the Malaysian people’s traditions. It was sad to see how the island had been let go. The Clunies Ross home wasn’t open, so we didn’t get to see inside.

We visited Direction Island, where we all went swimming and snorkelling. We travelled in a glass-bottom boat. The water is turquoise green/blue, just like you see in the pictures, absolutely beautiful. Other days were just spent lazily on the beach, reading, or wandering the island.

The trip, however, was primarily for Kim to compete in the Annual Cocos Keeling Island Lagoon swim. This is an 8km open water event which he had won a few years before in the inaugural event. Competitors were in teams, duos, and solo entrants. After crossing to Home Island to see the start of the race, we then ferried back so we could watch. As they headed into the beach, only a few hundred metres out, Taleah decided she needed the toilet. Taleah was too little to realise the significance of her timing. So, with her under my arm, we raced up to the facilities and back to the beach just in time to see Kim come across the line.  Two of them crossed together, but he did it; he was the first solo swimmer across the line.  

That night there was a celebration dinner and presentation of trophies. 

And soon, the week was over, and we were packing up to return home. The time spent together was so precious, and the location was just beautiful. To this day, Aidyn still talks about our holiday and wants us all to go back. beautiful. To this day, Aidyn still talks about our holiday and wants us all to go back.

Journey 9

In the NT

We left Darwin and travelled south to Adelaide River where we inspected the War Memorial. 

The water buffalo used in the film Crocodile Dundee was quietly grazing in his retirement. It had huge horns which looked dangerous.

From there we travelled east to the Mary River and boarded a vessel to see the Jumping Crocs.

Pieces of frozen pigs’ heads were loosely tied on rope which was dangled over the side of the boat. 

The crocodiles responded to the sound of the boat and could be seen slithering  off the river  banks  to  chase the boat for their treat  for which they would leap up and grab.

On our return journey a comment was make that ‘Bertha  had not come for a feed‘.  Suddenly with fantastic speed a crocodile chased the boat.  As it reached the boat – it dived under the stern and came up at the side, right in front of me.  Fortunately an 8 mm thick glass pane was between the two of us.

In Tasmania

Touring in the south of Tasmania we turned into The Boat Shed on the edge of the Huon River. Here they used the old-fashioned way of repairing and making new vessels. We were shown how they formed the wood in steam chambers to get the correct curve for the boats. With the correct curvature of the plank, they were added to already formed wood. To do this they used a square wooden peg on the outside and a metal disc on the inside. The metal disc split and formed a seal around the peg and this is where the expression to put a square peg in a round hole comes from.

Journey 10

My wife and I visited Europe for a pilgrimage intertwined with a holiday. I was seeking inspiration and quiet contemplation in special places and hoping to build a better relationship with God.

The natural beauty of the Lakes District in North England truly filled me with ‘wonder and awe’ of God’s creation. The many lakes, rivers, and waterfalls gave me a feeling of thankfulness, and I saw them as God’s gifts of love for us. Overlooking a beautiful sunset sitting beside a lake holding my wife’s hand compelled me to thank God for my life and all the gifts he has given me. Other times, communing with nature such as hiking had a meditative effect. 

The poverty in Spain and Portugal was confronting; even London had people sleeping on the streets. One cold, wet evening in Lisbon, we’d had a nice meal and were returning to our boutique hotel. At the church, next door was a dishevelled man making his bed on a stone bench. He was very grateful when were gave him some food and money. I still felt guilty going back to my warm room and bed. Every church I visited, I thanked God for my life, family, and our quality of life in Australia. 

Relics were in abundance. I viewed ‘a piece’ of the Holy Cross that was venerated regularly at Notre Dame Cathedral. Old cemeteries reminded me of my mortality. Seeing the battlefields, monuments, and war museums was humbling evidence of those who sacrificed themselves for Christian virtues, including freedom. 

I felt blessed that I could pray and attend services at St Paul’s in London and Notre Dame in Paris. The Sagrada Familia in Barcelona was nearing completion and gave me an appreciation of the timeframe and building expense of older churches. The medieval town of Sarlat-de-Caneda France has shrines to Mary on most corners and a Grotto to thank Her for ridding the town of plague.  At one of the beautiful gardens of a Spanish palace, we heard a water organ playing a 400-year-old tune. The beauty and atmosphere of these places was inspiring and humbling.

At Salisbury Cathedral, Saint Osmund (a great teacher) is buried in the floor with a stone casket over him. It has holes in it so you can talk to him. I knelt, stuck my head in and asked him, “How can I be a better teacher?” A reply flashed into my mind, “Work harder”. Not an answer I would have ever imagined, but I committed to it.

Throughout the trip, we saw evidence of the important role of Christianity in the development of society. The holiday was great and improved my relationship with God, and I am in better harmony with myself, nature, and others. My wife and I still enjoy talking about it and look forward to going back.